Chapter Sixteen: The Lid Is Off

The Council recess spawned a flood of noise. Bodisar and Ambelda heated the ears of anyone who would listen. Other leaders surrounded Lovaduc and Sherilana, pelting them with questions. Ottavar and Radovin dodged away. Their band encircled them like a herd of amiable musk oxen, heads out to fend off the curious.

Ottavar bared his torso and sat with a sigh of relief. Radovin kneaded his tense neck and shoulders, then worked his way up on the head. His own tension abated as Ottavar loosened up and breathed deeper. Now, more than ever, it felt good to do something he was good at to help someone else.

When the massage was over, Ottavar flexed his neck and sighed with relief. "Ahh, you're good at that. I think you could show Tiwa a few tricks."

"I listen to what your body tells me." Radovin waggled his hands. "Then I just go where it says to." He shrugged. "I like doing it."

"Your mother taught you that, ah?"

"Yeah." His mother and Ottavar together in that last summer...it was funny to think that he could have ended up with Ottavar his father instead of his brother. For the first time in many years, he wondered who his father really was. He would probably never know. He glanced at Davoner, who smiled back.

"Hai, Ott."

Hacaben slipped easily through the loose ring that defended their privacy. The old man had surrendered to comfort like all the rest, stripped to breechclout, belt, and a decorated vest. He carried a floppy sunshade under one arm. In a moment he was hunkered down by them, grinning at Ottavar.

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

"For what?" Ottavar looked puzzled. "Nothing's settled yet."

"Getting yourself an already trained apprentice and a new family member all in one," Hacaben said cheerily. "Radovin, you stirred them up all right. Good job."

"Ah...thank you?" Radovin said, caught unaware by the ambiguous praise.

Hacaben crowed a short laugh. "Bodo's on the defensive. You put him in a bad spot. That's good. He's not used to having to do all the thinking on his own. But you'd know that, ah?" He gave Ottavar a more serious look. "How are you feeling today?"

"All right. Why?"

"You were pretty close when the lightning hit, you were knocked on your arse. It doesn't have to hit right on to have some bad effects. I remember a case when I was younger. Couple of fellows out hunting, none were killed by it but one of them was never the same after. No amount of cleansing and exorcism helped." Hacaben frowned pensively. "You looked like you were getting a headache."

"I was, but it's just the sun." Ottavar shrugged. "Rado took care of it."

"Hm. Well, let me know if you feel anything unusual." He was about to say something more when a young woman approached. A tattoo on one cheek marked her as a Black Circle initiate. That was apparently what got her through almost as quickly as Hacaben.

"Good day, honored ones," she said, with a pleasant smile and a respectful nod.

"Good day, Firanaya," Hacaben said. Ottavar echoed him; Radovin merely nodded.

"Balekara asks that you come to her tent after the meeting, Ottavar. With your...apprentice." Her appraising glance made Radovin look down and away. "And you too, of course, Hacaben," she added.

Ottavar squinted toward the west end of the circle, where Balekara sat beneath her broad sunshade, a smiling thick-stemmed mushroom.

"She also asks that you fast until then."

"Ah. Ayah. Radovin too?"

"Yes." Firanaya nodded firmly, giving Radovin another one of those looks. Maybe she was just curious about him, like everyone else, but it spooked him. No female had ever looked at him like that before.

"Tell her it will be so." Ottavar shrugged; his sidelong glance at Radovin was regretful. "Good be with you, Fira."

Firanaya bade them go with all good and left.

"We won't get to bed early tonight," Hacaben said. He eyed Radovin thoughtfully. "You are going to be surrounded by fierce old men and women, my boy."

"That's all right," Radovin said. "You don't scare me."

Hacaben laughed. "That's good. Sometimes I scare myself. But I don't think you have anything to fear." He glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, I'd better go. Mosho's back. He'll be sending after me in a few licks. I'll see you two later. Go with all good." He left, showered with good wishes.

Ottavar stretched his arms and rose. "We might as well get back too. I feel a lot better now," he said to Radovin, smiling. Bazenaber gave him a sunshade, then knocked it half off hugging him. He settled it more firmly and traded embraces with the rest of his family.

"I wish you didn't have to fast today," Tevina said to Ottavar, her eyes half on Radovin.

"Can't be helped. You can stuff us tomorrow to make up for it."

"I will." Tevina turned to hug Radovin and kissed his cheek.

Every one had to give him a hug or at least a pat on the back. Jesumi caught him last. "Rado, you were great," she said, while squashing the breath out of him.

"Ngh--I just told'm what they said."

"Well, nobody else could have, or would have, and now we have a chance."

So do I, Radovin thought. He saw Ottavar beckon, and shrugged his arms loose. "I gotta go. Thanks, Sumi."

Jesumi backed off with a warm smile. "Go with all good, Rado."

He followed Ottavar to the Council circle. No one got in their way, though many eyes were on them. The bands had regrouped to await the resumption of the meeting.

The leaders stood in clusters, still chatting. Radovin heard someone make a remark about the abrupt nature of his adoption, and cocked an ear as Sherilana responded with unusual fury.

"How could we not give that poor boy a home? The Bull band is covered in shame, all of them! The way they treated him--a motherless child with all his band broken and scattered--if they didn't want him, he should have been brought to the Summermeet, not hidden away like a dirty secret. If we had known, he'd have had a place with us long before.

"What were they thinking? What was Ivergan doing, keeping him like a--a--tchah!" She made a sound of disgust. "May his spirit be torn and burned, may his name be forgotten."

"Sheri!"

Sherilana forged on, ignoring her colleague's shock at her execration of the recently dead. "It will never happen again, not if I have a say in anything. All very well saying 'repair your own tent, dig your own muckhole', but we are The People first, ah? Someone should have been asking questions years ago."

"Well, Sheri, no one sticks their nose into spirit business, ah? A shaman has a right to train his apprentice as he sees fit--or she, pardon me, Halezi," said the other headwoman, with a nod to an older woman who stood close by them.

"But not to beat him as if he were a dirty hide," Sherilana retorted. "Vahé, Thali, he has scars on his back from it. You don't do that to a human being!"

"Maybe he did something very bad?"

"Patuka! What could he have done to earn such treatment? He was just a boy when his mother died. He had no family at all, no one to help him, and they treated him like dirt. It wasn't Radovin's fault that he was left without a mother. It could happen to any of us. Would you want it to happen to one of your children? One of your grandchildren? And that 'bad luck' crap. Ivergan thought he was so great--why couldn't he deal with that? In four or five years he couldn't remove a bit of bad luck? Pah! We've seen no bad luck since he turned up. More like the opposite. Anyway, why hide it all under the mats?"

"She's right, Thali," Halezi interjected. "Ivergan kept too much to himself. It makes me wonder." She turned her bright, dark eyes toward Radovin for a moment. Her weathered face was marked by symbols of high shamanic rank.

Radovin wondered too. He thought he had a right to know why he had been cozened into a trap. But being patient and keeping his eyes and ears open was safer--and sometimes more effective--than asking questions.

Moshevar called the meeting to order, and everyone else took their seats. The Council members were more comfortable, at least those with clear consciences. They had visited the nearest muckhole, or the nearest bush, and all of them had removed the worst of their stifling gear.

Radovin sat next to Ottavar. He kept very still, not even brushing away flies, but his eyes and ears were active.

A small group of Bull band members stood near Moshevar's position, casting uneasy glances at their own leaders. Bodisar had already questioned their purpose in "standing around there," and been told by Moshevar that they were there to "assist in the investigation." Bodisar had not taken that favorably.

Moshevar requested the attention of the Council and the thrum of talk quieted down. "Will Calayani and Enari please come forth," he said, turning partway toward the separate group. Two women, their hair touched by the snow of age, stepped forward to enter the inner circle.

"Thank you, good elders. You have good memories, and know your band well," Moshevar said. "Tell me, please, how many members of those bands that were broken by the great sickness were adopted into the Bull band?"

Calayani spoke first. "Ehh, there was five-and-one all together. We lost a couple of them and a few of our own the winter next. That Solera, it was a shame. She was a good healer. She cured some who took sick, then she was taken." Calayani glanced around, avoiding the Bull leaders' eyes. The attentive looks on most faces encouraged her to go on.

"None of 'em were adopted right off. Some never have been yet. That Radovin, I thought he would be, with Ivergan taking him on. But nah, he said the bad luck had to be cleaned out of him first." She fidgeted, shuffling her feet and rubbing her thumbs and fingers together. "Beaten out, more like," she muttered under her breath, then looked up with a half-hearted defiance. "Well, you know nobody likes to mess with bad luck, especially after such a time, so many dying. We weren't going to take chances, y'know, and Ivergan...."

Moshevar nodded toward to Hacaben, who asked, "Who was it first said that Radovin was bad luck?"

The women looked at each another, lips pursed. Calayani answered, "It was Ivergan. He was on about it right off, almost. He wouldn't let the boy be with his mother when she lay sick and dying. That was when everyone started looking down on him. That's so, Enari, ah?"

"Yes." The other woman sighed. "My own mother, Vezanidi, may her spirit rest, was the only one to speak up. She never liked Ivergan. It worried me how she'd talk, sometimes."

Calayani was bobbing her head, and cut back in as soon as she could. "Yeah, and he knew it. Nidi aggervated him a few times about the boy. He told her to mind her own business, and she 'bout told him the same." She cackled dryly.

"He said that she would draw the ill-luck to her family by making a stink about it," Enari mumbled.

"Ayah, and you an' Avedala stood right with him. Well, I might have done the same." Calayani shook her head sadly. "Never occurred to any of us to question what he did with the boy. Nobody wants bad luck, and he was the one supposed to know all about that. Rado was good with the herbs, had a healing touch, like. We didn't mind him fixing something for our pain, ah? Ivergan let him do that, made him a charm to keep the bad luck from us." She gazed briefly at Radovin. He met her eyes, and she looked away.

"Not my problem, that's what I thought. That's what we all thought. Watch out for our own grandkids, make sure the big nobs didn't take a disliking to 'em." Calayani cast a dour glance at Bodisar, whose face had grown notably purplish.

"It wasn't always like that," she went on. "In Dothobor's time, we said what we liked. I was young then, but I knew what was what. Then I got busy with everyday things, raising children, worrying about having enough to eat. I don't know when it changed, it just crept up on us. Now it's 'Yes, Bodisar-nabu,' 'Please, Bodisar-nabu,' 'May I, Ambelda-mada.' And as long as we get what we want, we don't care if somebody else goes without." Her eyes flicked toward Radovin again.

"My mother--may she rest in peace, she went in the great sickness--didn't like it at all. Nor do some of the men, but all they do is talk among themselves--where certain ones can't hear them." She cast a meaningful glance at Enari, whose mouth tightened. Radovin knew what she was implying. Enari's son-by-mating Vashoner was a thorough sneak--and worse.

Zopira looked shocked. She rose and caught Moshevar's attention with a light touch on his arm. He nodded to her.

"Enari, Calayani," Zopira said, "do you really fear for your families if you speak against your headman or...."

"Zopira-mada," Enari said, "I wanted my daughters to make good matches, and if one who was Dedicated spoke against them...." She gestured helplessly. "I have grandchildren, too."

"But you have meetings to share your concerns, ah?"

Calayani cut in, stamping a foot on the ground. "Oh, sure. We all get together around the fire and sing good and loud, and then they tell us everything's all right. That drum-rider could turn anybody's words around right in their mouth. He was better at that than anything else. And all we heard was, 'We have to stick together or the wogs'll get us in our sleep.' They're always saying, 'Stick together,' meaning don't trust anybody. Don't talk about what's wrong and everything'll be just fine. Well, we've had just as much rotten luck since Radovin left, and who should we blame it on? The White Horse band? They moved off after their old headman and shaman got dead so handy. The wogs? Not a one in sight. Like as not Pavo's raiders have killed 'em all off already."

"Enough of this drivel!" Ambelda's sharp spear of a voice cut in. "Whose business is it how we run our affairs? This is nothing but foolish gossip--"

"Hai!" Moshevar's cry and the accompanying sharp crack of his hands cut her short.

"Ambelda, do you wish to speak?" he asked mildly.

"Yes, I certainly do." She lumbered to her feet and stepped forward, apparently not with Bodisar's full approval. His scowl, as much as Ambelda's approach, made Calayani and Enari edge away.

"All this talk is nothing but empty griping," Ambelda said. "Our band is large. Everyone gets a fair share, but some always think it's not enough, that somebody else is getting more. They never think to blame their own laziness. Envious talk angers the spirits. It's no wonder if we have bad luck. You two should be happy with what you have."

"I would be if I had it," Calayani retorted, "but Ivergan demanded a lot of furs for a little hunting charm. And then I see you wearing them."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What I have, I work for. It's a heavy responsibility, the welfare of a large band. I must see to it that we have enough to keep us through the winter, that no one goes hungry or unclothed--"

"Except those you take against," Calayani snapped. "I've heard enough of your whining. And I know how much 'work' you do. My mother and Vezanidi were right. We need a new headman."

There were a few shouts of "Ayah!" from outside the circle. The expressions on Ambelda's and Bodisar's faces darkened. Galini, headwoman of the Lion band, rose to her feet.

"Belda, you aren't making a very good argument for your case," Galini said, after receiving a nod from Zopira. "I don't like the sound of this at all. If your own band members are not satisfied with your leadership, they have a right to say so. May I ask some questions of them?"

"It's none of your affair, Galini. The Bull band will work out its own problems."

"That may be. But we all have relatives and friends in every band. Your own son chose to take a mate and a hearth with us. Of course there is always talk. People like to complain about little things. But this talk of mistreatment of a child, and of man-slaying--I don't know what to think."

"Then don't think about it." Bodisar had gotten up to stand by Ambelda. He took her arm and whispered something in her ear. Then he spoke out to the assembly. "Listen to me, all of you--this has gone too far already. We've heard nothing but gossip, as well as lies from that runty jagal's-whelp."

"Bodo, if you have done no wrong, then you have nothing to fear," Galini said, with some irritation. She turned to look at Radovin, who gazed up at her with wide, innocent eyes. That kind of look had gotten him a bite of food on occasion. It probably wouldn't hurt now.

"Has anyone outside of the White Horse band questioned this young man?" she demanded.

"I have," Hacaben said.

"Ah. And what do you think of him?"

"I believe he tells the truth. He was badly treated, so badly that he was sick in the spirit. I don't know what hold Ivergan had on him that he wouldn't run away, but no one who calls himself Dedicated should do such a thing. Ivergan turned far off the path of light into the way of evil, in my opinion. I'm ashamed that I couldn't see it before it struck me in the face."

"Is that what you meant when you said, earlier, 'We may have just buried one?' You think Ivergan was dabbling in sorcery?"

"More than dabbling."

"Bogu Vahé!" Galini made a sign of warding.

"Rot!" Bodisar exclaimed. But his eyes flicked about uncertainly.

"He could trust you not to rattle on him, couldn't he?" Hacaben rounded on Bodisar. "You and Pavolen, ah?"

"My son had nothing to do with it."

"With what?"

"You--you're trying to trick me, you cursed poison-mixer!"

"I couldn't be bothered to." Hacaben gave the Bull headman a look of utter disgust and stepped back, hands folded.

"Bodisar, enough. Let us continue without interruption," Moshevar said.

"Continue to tear down my authority with my own band, you mean!"

"Hai, Bodo," Michecar called out. "we need to get this meeting back to business, ah? Not be fighting like boys."

Other headmen voiced their agreement. "You're fighting air, Bodo," Amorad said. "If you have nothing to fear, why are you so defensive? My people make a lot of noises too, but we don't get up a grassfire over it. Everything gets sorted out."

Moshevar clapped his hands for attention. "Hear me! Hear me! What we decide here will affect all of us, and our children, and our children's children. This is no petty squabble. If the Good Spirits have been offended, we must know, and make amends. Bodisar, Ambelda, you have shown little respect for your fellow men and women this day. How can you expect us to hear you out if you won't allow others to speak? Do you have anything to add that you haven't already said?"

"If any member of my band has a grievance, I should hear of it first," Bodisar declaimed. "It's not fitting that you should ask my own people to speak ill of me."

"No one has told them what to say," Moshevar replied. "If your own people have not informed you of their grievances, it is not my doing. It is necessary to know what status Radovin had with your band, and we must know if anyone can confirm his testimony. It seems odd that he was kept hidden from the initiates of other bands. Do you know why Ivergan did this?"

"I don't meddle in the affairs of shamans." Bodisar folded his arms, sullen and defiant.

When he said no more, Moshevar lifted his hands again. "I would like to speak to a few more members of the Bull band. Then we should adjourn until tomorrow. The Dedicated will be heard from then. Balekara has told me that Radovin will be questioned and tested this evening, and they will seek further information and guidance in the Spirit World. That will take some time, and the day is growing old. Do you accept this?"

The other leaders--except for Bodisar and Ambelda--made signs of agreement. Moshevar asked the waiting Bull band men to come forward.

Their testimony was less rambling, if less spontaneous. Moshevar asked questions, sometimes explaining briefly the purpose of them, and the men answered. The questioning proceeded smoothly. Bodisar and Ambelda sat and fumed. They received warning looks from their peers if they so much as twitched a finger. It became apparent to everyone that the hunt was much better planned than Bodisar had let on afterwards. The men also affirmed Radovin's status, or rather lack of it, with the band.

"Nah, he never hunted anything but rabbits and such, used to bring 'em in and give 'em to the women sometimes. They'd give him cast-off clothes.... Yeah, he was left behind in the summer. Part of his training, is what we were told...."

"...Yeah, well, we didn't talk about him outside, see, because it would draw the bad luck...."

Radovin's cultivated sorrowful expression had a good effect on the women, from what he could see. They were giving the Bull band couple particularly unpleasant looks.

At last Moshevar called the meeting over for the day. The Council rose to join their bands to prepare for the evening meal. Initiates of the White Circle would not be dining. A few followed immediately in Balekara's wake, others lingered to speak with their headmen.

Lovaduc scratched his bushy chin and regarded Ottavar, and his shadow, Radovin. "You going to stay there for the night? Or should someone come over later to walk back with you? I don't like the idea of your being out in the dark alone just now." He turned his head briefly. The Bull band was straggling off in clots rather than as a united group. They could hear snatches of Bodisar's harangue, and Ambelda's skriking interjections.

"He'll stay," Hacaben put in, stepping up beside them. "I might too. I already asked Polo to stop over in case Dosi's babe takes a turn again. He knows what's what, they can count on him. Not that they'll likely need to--for goodness' sake, all those women know how to deal with a colicky baby, but it's her first and they always want the whole drum-and-dance for every hiccup. Vah! I should get myself an apprentice, ah?" He grinned at Ottavar and Radovin.

Ottavar looked a little annoyed at having been spoken over, but he shrugged and smiled. "You should, Hac. You need a backup. And you're good at teaching--you've trained half of us, I think."

"True enough, and you're a credit to me, at least. Still no one in the band hearing a call, though. I'll just borrow Radovin some time too. Well, I suppose we'd best get going."

"Borrow me?" Radovin said, as they walked off together.

"A novice is almost always trained by more than one master," Ottavar explained to him. "It keeps us from getting too narrow a view, and we learn more. Hac usually has one around, but not 'his own', just staying a while, from another band. I spent some time with Cademura. Hac took me on for most of a year, crammed my head with more than I can remember about herbs. And hucha." He traded grins with the older shaman. "Maybe next year. You could help him train a new one, too, if he ever gets around to finding one."

"Oh." Radovin pondered that. Other shamans traded apprentices for training regularly, then. What a load of patuka he'd been handed. Ivergan had kept him completely away from any of the Dedicated. Why? The excuse of "contamination" with wrong teachings didn't hold a single drop of water. What else had he, or the other shamans, not been supposed to know? "Yeah. If it's...all right with you?"

"It's very all right with me," Ottavar said, making Radovin's heart so light his feet nearly lost touch with the ground. Hacaben startled them both with a burst of laughter.